Epilogue - I hate this city
by Motodachi
Summary: "It was not without a sting of bitterness Hawke thought about her little group toppling off one by one. Especially those that she grew to like. Her friends. Being the ruler of a city did not earn you any new ones, friends you could trust. There was but one left."


It was late autumn. The low afternoon sun gave the illusion of the Viscount office to be warm. In reality the keep was but a glorified wind shelter this time of the year. The hearth was empty and the air was crisp and dust danced in the draft.

Hawke stood over her desk, not really looking at the parchments in front of her, nurturing a growing headache and a burning disgust for nobles in general. The cold didn't bother her. She was still in full armor and still flustered after joining a routine patrol around the city walls, discussing improvements of the city defenses with a small council of nobles and representatives of the craft man guilds.

"Blight take 'em.." She muttered.

She knew she was not a great diplomat but this time she had _actually_ tried. Her idea to bring everyone who would be involved in the matter, investors and craftsmen, to discuss what needed to be done - on site - had been a disaster.

At times like these she usually strolled across the hall to the guard captains office. Aveline would start by scolding her for still thinking like a hired sword and not like a ruler. Then pour them some fancy brandy and give her view on the matter, whether she was asked to or not. They rarely agreed on much but they had one thing in common. They were both practical of nature and liked to get things done.

Aveline however had handed in her resignation two weeks ago to go back to rebuild Lothering. It didn't come as a surprise. She had been talking about it for almost two years now.

Not that there was anything wrong with the current guard captain, Brennan. Hawke still preferred the company of the men at arms and spent a lot of time in the company of the guard and the templars. But he was no Aveline. And by her leaving it was almost the last of her companions gone.

Isabela never dared to show her face in Kirkwall again - Hawke still had people on the lookout for her should she submerge. Anders was dead - and rightfully so. Merrill simply wandered off one day without a word - she had been spared from the right of annulment but had never been the same after the battle. Hawke never agreed with her casual use of blood magic but Varric had convinced her to turn a blind eye and not hunt her down as a gesture of gratitude for loyalty. "Daisy has her own demons to face, no need to worry about the real ones gettin' to her". Varric himself grew restless in a city with no stories to weave and took his leave to Orlais along with Bohdan and Sandal "to see the political spectacle from first row".

It was not without a sting of bitterness Hawke thought about her little group toppling off one by one. Especially those that she grew to like. Her friends. Being the ruler of a city did not earn you any new ones, friends you could trust. There was but one left.

A soft knock and the door opened without invitation.

"Fenris."  
"Your grace."

Hawk snorted. Bastard elf! Of all the skill sets he had developed as a free man, sarcasm was not the thing that he needed to improve on.

She walked around the table and grabbed the book they had been working with and tapped him over the head with it. He replied with a smirk and took book out of her hand and went over to the hearth.  
"How fair your reading Fenris?"  
"Improving. Though i think this new technique of yours of beating it into me might not be as effective as you think, messere."  
"Tell me, how would you like to be nailed to the chantry board naked?"  
"I'm sure the sisters would appreciate the jest."

She rolled her eyes. He loved to come here to mock her knowing she could not speak plainly. They were in the political heart of the city and the walls had ears. There was enough speculations about the Champion and the exotic looking elf already. Officially he was now the Viscounts shadow and bodyguard. A task Hawke would not trust with anyone else anyway, but it was more a convenient lie to be able to keep him close. She had even had her house rebuilt with a separate entrance and living quarters for him. A concealed passage connected the two houses so no one would have to gossip about how the Viscount and Champion was frequenting her manservant at odd hours. Despite what people might think it was mostly just to talk.

She leaned with her back on to the desk, crossed her arms and gave him a long stern look. His playful expression faded as he met her gaze with simple admiration that could disarm a qunari.

She shook her head and laughed. "Sorry, I don't think I'm allowed to leave yet."  
"Need me to at your side to strike fear into this afternoons visitors?

She had asked him about it to not offend him by having him play the same role for her as he had as a slave. The answer he gave was simple:  
'The offense was never in what he made me do - I never denied enjoying it - but in that the choice was not mine.' And that was end of discussion.

Now it was more of a little game they played every week. Hawke having constant attention and not being able to leave the city without escort and fuss had made their options for leisure time limited. She knew Fenris was unhappy in Kirkwall and she was the only reason he still lingered. It was not fair to ask him to trade one prison for another. There would come a time when not even his promise could keep him at her side. She had settled for enjoying it for as long as she got to have him.

"If you would do me the honor."  
"Ready when you are." he nodded.

* * *

It was already dark when she finally was allowed back home. The mansion was empty. Bohdan and his boy had left for Orlais when Varric did. Orana had made her dinner and gone home as per usual. Her trusty servant had found a good husband and only came by three times a week to tidy up and restock the food supplies and occasionally fuss about the state Hawke was in. Or the house. Usually both.

Hawke snorted. She had been accusing Fenris for living like a ghost in his old place but what was she doing herself? The house was no more then a set piece inhabited by one fairly poor actress trying to carry the lead role of Viscount. She was out of her element and dead tired of it.

They could give her whatever fancy titles they wanted, it didn't change who she was. A hired sword who worked herself up with odd jobs and not asking to many questions. She was a warrior. She put her shield between the enemies and the ones she was trying to protect. Her place was in the middle of the fight trying to catch everyone's attention and make sure they'd think she was the biggest threat out there. Not this. She was not even sure what more they expected of her at this point.

The nobles where very eager to get rid of her. But her popularity with the people and trade guilds made sure that a vote for her replacement would never go through.

Hawke slumped down in the chair in front of the unlit fireplace. Staring into nothingness as she pealed off her gauntlets. She had never taken to wearing any formal clothing despite the pressure. Her armor was her only comfort zone she had up in the keep and she intended to wear it. It was who she was. Her mind wandered off and soon she had was wallowing in hours of self pity. Thinking of what she lost and what what never to be. She felt like a prisoner here.

 _I didn't ask for this. What do they want from me? Maker, I'm trapped!_

"Stop it."

She was out of the chair and had pulled her dagger in mere reflex before she realized where she was and who had entered the room.

Fenris didn't even flinch as the blade went for his throat. He gave her a curious look. His lyrium betrayed that she had surprised him, making him glow like a specter in the dark. Hawke gasped quietly and blinked staring a bit too long into the elf's big grey eyes.  
"You took me by surprise." She blurted.  
"Evidently so."

She dropped the blade and sank back into the chair, heart racing and cheeks burning. "Maker, I'm sorry! I was.. somewhere else." Her stumbling excuse crawled of to die in a corner of the dark room.

"Glad to see you still have your reflexes." He observed.  
She covered her face in her hand and grunted. He was going to turn this to a guilt fest wasn't he?  
"I should have announced my presence. No need to apologize." He handed her the dagger not bothering to hide his amusement.  
"What's so funny?" She grumbled, eager to take the focus of her recent blunder.  
"Nothing. It was quite.. Endearing to see you reaction when you realized who you pulled your blade on."  
"Do you need to rub it in? I promised you.." she craved the elf's attention but at the same time wanted to leave the room. She didn't like being caught off guard, feelings exposed. Especially not by Fenris.

She heard him move around the chair. He felt his hand brush over hers as he grabbed the armrests. "Look at me" he demanded softly. His face was so close to hers it was impossible to look anywhere else. Hawke had the feeling she made a face of a pouting five year old. She knew she did not do shame very gracefully.

"I shouldn't have startled you. I'm sorry." He stood up again and beckoned her to do the same. "Now, stop it."  
"Stop what?" She grumbled.  
"That. It's unbecoming how you are turning into me."  
"I was just.. I had a rough day. Just need some sleep." Not believing it herself even.  
"Festis bei umo canavarum!"  
"I-uh what?" She had tried to study the language of the Tevinter Imperium, mostly to decipher the numerous curses Fenris used but refused to tell her what they meant. But she had quickly realized that Fenris vocabulary was not something that the chantry library would keep books on.

He made an impatient gesture for her to get into his living quarters. There was no sense in arguing nor did she want to. She sighed, picked up her sword and shield and went for the passage. In the corner of her eye she saw him pick up her gauntlets. He stroked the feather-like piece that she kept tucked under the wrist strap. Just as he wore something that belonged to her armor around his wrist - so did she.

Hawke dropped her shield in a corner and put the sword on the table with the intention of cleaning it later. She felt more at home in here then in her house. She had never liked it. It was meant for her mother, not her.

Fenris place was small, simple but homely. He liked his privacy so she tried to not intrude more then once a week. He would only go as far as to come over to her place with a bottle of wine and a deck of cards and then leave her to her moping if it didn't help. Not this time however. She wondered if that should have her worried.

His attempts to make a life for himself here and try to fit in were without success. His relation to other people in general was 'complicated' at best. It mostly resulted in him sticking to himself, his books and his thoughts. Hardly a fitting life for a skilled warrior as himself. And she had nothing else to offer him.

Hawke started to undo the straps and clasps of her armor. Such a routine chore she didn't need to look what she what doing. Her under tunic was wrinkly mess from sweat and pressure under the armor and padding. As she struggled with the left shinguard she felt a bolt of cloth landing next to her.

"Here" To her surprise it was her evening robe she had worn at home when mother was alive. "I washed it for you."  
She looked up at him in disbelief and blinked several times before stating; "You really are bored aren't you?" As she pulled off her tunic to put it on. She looked down on her comically wrinkly pants and shook her head. "I couldn't find anything else.." He added then suddenly realizing admitting going through her belongings was a very personal thing. "It's peculiar how a woman of your stature seems to own nothing more then what she's wearing." While talking he had found a wine bottle and two mugs which he placed on the bench between them.

"And what would I do with more clothes? Prance around Hightown like my mother? I will not be their puppet.. not more then I have to." she grimaced.  
"I did not touch your mothers room."  
"Oh, I-" she shook her head. Why was it always that she tried to say one thing and it came out sounding like something completely different? "Forgive me, I wasn't accusing you of prying. You know i don't mind." She poured them some wine and looked up at him, letting him in on a secret. "I burnt all her things. That room is empty."

Fenris looked to be searching for words but seemed unsure how he was supposed to react to this as he often did when trying to understand how humans think. Instead he shook his head looking mystified.

"I do not dwell on the dead, no one in our line of work can afford to. I'm surprised you bought the act though. It was never my intention to keep that from you."  
"She was family. I thought you might feel differently." he shrugged.  
"We never got along. She blamed me for most things. Her bearing me was the reason she had to leave Kirkwall in the first place." She took a deep gulp of wine and the words poured out of her. "The mistakes of her youth led her to leave her comfortable life as a noble to live in hiding with an apostate in some backwater village in Ferelden. She always looked at me with resentment.. I kept out of the house as soon as I was old enough. At least she did right by Bethany and Carver. Though Bethany's talent for magic was somehow also my fault."

The elf nodded for her continue.

"I started running errands for the kings troops who had a holding nearby. They took a liking to me and let me flail away at the dummies in their training yard." She cringed at the thought of her young angry self looking like a fool with her homemade wooden sword. "My persistence caught the attention of a sergeant named Burrich. He decided that if I was going to come there every day anyway he might as well teach me a thing or two." She smiled fondly of the memory of the 'old man'. He was probably not older then she was now.

Fenris watched her with great interest saying nothing. She had never spoken of this to anyone. He would never openly ask her to tell him about her past. She knew he wanted her to go on and was worried that anything he said would snap her out of it. She had another sip of wine and continued.

"At first he thought it would be more suiting to teach me some of the lighter weaponry. At the time I was really skinny. Not exactly built for sword and board. He soon found out that archery was dangerous for anyone in the vicinity." She chuckled. "It was time completely wasted. I never heard a man curse so fluently without stopping to catch his breath and I was like a sponge at that age. Learned so many good words.."

"Throwing knives and axes went better. Still that is considered a secondary weapons. Two-handers were out of the question. They were bigger than me and weighed twice as much. Eventually he settled for a mace. 'Simple and blunt - much like your technique' he said." Hawke smiled of the memory, she didn't realize how much she still missed him. She looked up at Fenris with a smirk. "You would have liked him. Strange though. I was probably closer to that complete stranger than my own father. We spent more time together for one, yet I knew nothing about him. I think my enthusiasm and will to learn flattered him. It must've been a nice change from training unwilling recruits." She felt a sudden tug at her heart thinking of this time in her life. Burrich had been a strict tutor but never unfair. She had soaked up everything he taught her with undivided admiration.

"You miss him."  
"I-.. yes, I suppose i do." She admitted. "I never really got to thank him. Or say.." Hawke swirled the last wine in her cup lost in thought. Fenris offered her more and that brought her back to reality. She nodded, noticing he was not drinking himself. The bastard elf is doing this on purpose! But she wasn't angry. If he was ready to die for her he at least deserved to know her.

"Then the war came. Some said it was a Blight, some said it was not. Either way it was no longer safe to be outdoors at night. Darkspawn had been sighted in the surroundings. I basically lived in the barracks by then. That just gave me a good reason not to go home at all. This was months before Ostagar but more and more troops came in every day. Joining Burrichs squad came naturally." Her mouth had gone dry from talking and she had another sip. Thankfully this was not a very strong wine, just strong enough to loosen her tongue.

"They brought war hounds from Denerim. I was fascinated by the beasts. Such fearless fighters. Luckily for me they put me on caring for the new litter where the mother had died. I guess it was partially Burrichs doing that I ended up there. He could not give me one of the pups but he could put me in a position for one of them to take a liking to me. I think that was his way of trying to keep me safe. Thus Rally came into my life. He sure was a handful." She blinked furiously and hid her face in the cup. Her mabari friend had died in the last stand against the mages. Three years ago now but it still stinged.

Fenris comforted her with his silence. She was thankful he was staring into the flames while she rubbed her eyes and composed herself. Rally had died fighting which was what mabari was bred for. She took comfort in that.

Hawke cleared her throat. "When the final battle was imminent every able bodied man and woman was to report for duty. That meant they took Carver too. He was a decent fighter. My mother was hysterical. I can't say I blame her. We were both in heavy infantry, commonly called the meat grinder. No matter if the battle was a success or not we would most likely perish. No one knew of Bethany since she was an apostate she led a fairly isolated life." She looked up to see if Fenris was still listening. His gray eyes was fixed on her and it almost made her loose her trail of thought.

"Uh, since we were new recruits we were to be fillers after the first battle. Meaning we had to stay behind and protect Lothering before heading off. This made me furious. I wanted to go with Burrich, but the decision was already made. When I went to find him I discovered he had already left with the rest of the army.." Her voice died out.

"You think you failed him?" He echoed her own thoughts. After thinking about it for a while she nodded slowly.  
"He fell in Ostagar with the rest of the army." The room suddenly felt so very quiet. Admitting this out loud sort of settled Burrichs fate. In the beginning she had wild fantasies about him showing up. That he somehow miraculously had made it out alive. That her mentor and hero simply had been mowed down by darkspawn was not worthy of him.

"It was torture to sit there and wait for news. When news finally came it was not from the battlefield. It was refugees from the south and with them the darkspawn flooded in. There was no time to think. Carver and I fled and picked up the rest of our family on the way and headed north. Carver died on our way here. Mother blamed me for that too. How could I have let him take on an ogre when I was the one with military training.." She shook her head bitterly. "The rest of the story you know."

She felt flat and empty. There was nothing more to tell. Some hero she was. She pinched the bridge of her nose and closed her eyes. Her head buzzing. No, no more wine or there would be no end to the brooding. Hawke wasn't aware that Fenris had moved until he sat down behind her, one leg on each side of the bench just like her. He wrapped his arms around her pressing his cheek against hers. It surprised her. He was not the one to initiate physical contact. Despite the sort of fragile relationship they still had they mostly took comfort in each others silent company then anything else.

She felt the burning sensation on the brim of her eyes but with her hands pinned down she couldn't stop it. Tears trickled down her face. The humiliation of being openly vulnerable heated her cheeks. "I hate this city!" She hissed. Fenris said nothing, just held her.


End file.
